


The Assassin’s Sheath

by Jacob_M_Bosch



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Highlander: The Series, Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Decapitation, Multiple Crossovers, Racist Language, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28608180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacob_M_Bosch/pseuds/Jacob_M_Bosch
Summary: On Halloween, Xander gains incredible skills that the Watchers find very useful when it comes to a certain area of the Council's work. Xander soon learns that work is very, very dirty. And Giles doesn't necessarily have his back.
Kudos: 9





	The Assassin’s Sheath

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This was going to be a big old slashy fic. I was leaning toward Richie/Xander, or Duncan/Xander, or maybe even Duncan/Richie/Xander. That’s not what the warning is for, though. 
> 
> Before I could post this fic a while back, Nobuhiro Watsuki… disappointed me, so I put this story away. This chapter is more Highlander focused, so I feel like I can post it without putting too much shine on Nobuhiro Watsuki’s work. The other four chapters, unfortunately, have a lot of focus on Rurouni Kenshin, so… 
> 
> Maybe I can post them later, when I feel less weird about it.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended 

They rode in the car without speaking. Rupert Giles was used to these long spans of silence, and had cherished them in the beginning. As one can only tolerate Xander Harris’s sharp, bitter verbal swipes for so long. Unfortunately, that hadn’t remained the case. If Rupert had known then Xander’s silences were far deadlier, and more disconcerting than his obnoxious words, he might have made the effort to keep the jibes coming. 

Rupert took a quick glimpse at Xander and saw the boy staring through the passenger-side window out at the black beyond the boundary of the road. He sensed Rupert’s glance and his jaw clenched so hard Rupert swore heard the boy’s teeth grind. Hatred surged from him and crashed into Rupert unending and merciless like a physical force. Rupert was convinced Xander had some low level telepathic powers to impress so much rage without saying a word, or even looking his way.

But Rupert had experience in wars of emotional attrition. Xander’s quiet animosity bared a remarkable resemblance to Rupert’s father’s aloof, but obvious disdain. It was oddly fitting he should make that comparison, since both men had eventually lost their affection and respect for Rupert—although for very different reasons. It was remarkable, in a decidedly non-humorous way. His father loathed him for not being Watcher enough during his youth, and Xander hated him because he was too much the Watcher now. 

Decidedly non-humorous, Rupert concluded.

Rupert had been driving towards their destination for ten hours. He had to do all the driving because Xander refused to participate more than he had to, and expressed little empathy for Rupert’s predicament. This wouldn’t be a problem if time hadn’t been a constraint. Xander and he needed to be back in Sunnydale by Monday morning so they wouldn’t be missed. 

They’d driven through Oregon the day before, stopping in Seattle for a night to rest and eat before rolling into Canada. So far the most difficulty they’ve run into was transporting the sword across the US/Canadian boarder. Once Rupert showed the proper import papers he and Xander were let through without so much as a warning; after all, what damage could a middle-aged antiques dealer and his “son” do with an old bamboo stick katana?

Vancouver was still nine hours away and Rupert was bone-weary and on the lookout for road signs advertising lodging. Rupert shook his head slightly, remembering somewhat bitterly, when he could stay awake for days. Now he found himself yawning and rubbing tired, sore eyes after a mere thirteen hours of constant wakefulness. He used to spend twice that amount of time researching a single prophecy! And during his wild youth his stamina… well… let’s not go there, as the children say, shall we?  
*  
*  
*  
Rupert found a little hotel thirty miles later and checked in. He got them separate rooms, which wasn’t in the Council’s budget for their assignment, so Rupert paid for the second room himself. Otherwise Xander would sleep in the car.

Rupert lay in bed on top of a terribly starched blanket, and considered braving a serious discussion with Xander. To tell Xander he was being ridiculous, and immature. That they needed to work together with as little friction as possible. Rupert had no idea how to go about holding such a conversation, however. Mostly because he doubted Xander would even open his door to him. 

In the silence he couldn’t hear anything from Xander’s room. There was no indication there was an unsupervised teenage boy, biologically predisposed to mischief and mayhem, with access to cable and pay-per-view and room service, occupied the room. The silence was unnatural.

Rupert considered offering Xander an apology.

But that wouldn’t work either; there would be no forgiveness from that boy. The council had gone too far coercing Xander, and Rupert had remained silent too long when they did. To Xander, Rupert’s silence might as well have been an endorsement of the Council’s actions. 

At first, Rupert was all for using Xander to further the Council’s interests outside the Slayer program. He had facilitated Xander’s recruitment, softened their approach by filling the boy’s head with so much drivel about the grand things he could accomplish for the Council using his gifts. And later Rupert, like the mindless zealot that he was, became livid when Xander said he didn’t want to work for the Council anymore. 

Rupert thought the boy was displaying his usual lack of discipline, and said as much. Rupert had been… terse towards the boy, to his lasting regret, and that was the last time Xander came to him for help. But the beginning of a spite-filled relationship neither of them could get away from.  
*  
*  
*  
Rupert awoke the next morning innocent. For a few brief moments after his eyes opened he didn’t remember the mission he’d been sent on. Nor did he remember Xander, mired in resentment and fear, in the room next to his. 

But reality soon came crashing down, as it always did.

Rupert dressed and grabbed his wallet and the keys to the rental car off the nightstand, then left the room. The hotel had a small, but cozy restaurant on its ground floor. Rupert decided he would go there instead of ordering from room service. Once there he discovered Xander had decided to do the same. The boy sat at one of the tables in a secluded corner of the eatery. Xander chose a spot where his back was to a wall, yet he had a clear vision of the restaurant’s entrances and exits.

It was still disconcerting to Rupert how tactical, and even a bit paranoid, Xander had become since he gained his abilities. It made sense, of course, considering what Rupert knew about the character Xander had temporarily been possessed by that fateful Halloween.

Rupert ordered a coffee when he learned tea was unavailable, as well as a plate of eggs and bacon, and an orange juice. He found a booth as far from Xander’s as possible. When he finished with his breakfast, Rupert ordered another coffee to go, anticipating a long, draining drive ahead of him. The waitress handed him a sealed cup before Rupert headed back to his room.

Later, as they continued their journey to Vancouver, Xander finally studied the file the Council had on the subject he was assigned to eliminate.

The file is written in Kyūjitai. It was meant to add an extra layer of security in case authorities somehow got involved. Even Rupert had trouble reading it, yet Xander read it all quite easily. Still, Rupert deciphered enough of the file’s contents to know they targeted a very old, very dangerous, individual that had already slaughtered an entire sect of Watchers in Vancouver.

After Xander finished with the file, Rupert hazarded to question if Xander had any questions that weren’t answered in the file.

“He’s old,” Xander said.

“Very much so.”

Xander fell silent for a time before he spoke again.

“What are we doing, Giles?”

Xander’s question was unexpected, and caught Rupert somewhat off guard. Xander had been sullen and resentful for weeks, and rarely had a kind word to say to Rupert. Now, he sounded calm and desperate for some answer Rupert wasn’t certain he could give.

“Doing?”

“What happens when I kill these people? All that energy flying around: where does it go? Are we doing the right thing setting it free like that?”

Ah, the Quickening.

“The Council believes when there are no immortals to receive the Quickening, it returns to the Source and new Immortals are created.”

“Making this ‘Game’ go on even longer,” Xander said.

“Well. Yes, I suppose so.”

Xander fell silent once more. He didn’t speak again until they reached their final destination.

Pollux Kul had taken the yacht of a wealthy millionaire after killing the millionaire who owned it, and its crew. Pollux was an accomplished sailor and was capable of navigating entire oceans alone. It had been recorded he sailed from Italy to Northern Africa in only a small fishing boat. The Council assumed Pollux planned to leave Vancouver on the yacht and return to Seattle after he chased down the lone Watcher that had escaped the massacre.

Rupert parked the car in the marina’s parking lot. Xander retrieved his sword, which was wrapped in a black, cotton sword bag from the boot, and strapped it to his back. Giles also got out of the car and went to find a safe location to oversee the upcoming confrontation. He carried a camcorder to film the battle for the Council’s records. Though Xander was not an Immortal, Pollux was, so there still needed to be some record of his end.

From a safe distance, Rupert watched Xander approach Pollux’s stolen boat. Ignoring the sword on his back, Xander stood out among such an extravagant environment. He’d taken to wearing sweat pants and Tee-shirts when he fought, as well as lightweight mesh running shoes that often fell apart after his battles.

The yacht Pollux stood on was larger than almost all the other boats in the marina, easily a hundred meters long. Despite having murdered the yacht’s crew, Pollux was not hiding from sight. Rupert saw Pollux standing on the forecastle wearing a dark suit with a long trench coat over it. He lazily sipped dark red wine from a glass and stared out at the ocean.

Pollux was of average height, though he would have been considered quite tall compared to the average Roman of his time. He was well-built, and exuded obvious strength and agility in the way he carried himself. The lights on the yacht revealed his nut-brown skin and Caesar haircut, a style records showed he’d maintained for at least a thousand years. 

In many contexts, Pollux was a considerably attractive man in his early, to mid thirties.

Pollux noticed Xander’s approach. The immortal seemed more curious than alarmed. Using the camcorder’s zoom feature, Rupert saw Pollux say something to Xander, then smile broadly at whatever Xander’s reply was. 

Once Xander lured Pollux from the yacht Rupert would reposition and get closer so he could hear any conversation the two might have. Xander was ordered to get as much information from Pollux as he could before he dispatched him. The Council wanted to know if other Immortals knew about them.

Xander unwrapped his sword from the bag, and tossed the bag aside. He slowly unsheathed its gleaming silver blade and brandished it at Pollux. Pollux laugh with some mirth then held his wine glass up as if toasting Xander. Then Pollux tossed the glass into the water and pulled two Roman short swords from out of nowhere before he leaped off the yacht and onto the dock in front of Xander.

Both Pollux’s swords were forged from steel, not iron, and they glimmered under the lights in the marina just as vividly as Xander’s katana.

Rupert had to rush to get to a closer position, and cursed when he realized he’d missed the beginning of Pollux and Xander’s conversation.

“You are no Immortal, boy,” Pollux said.

Pollux’s voice was refined, cultured. Posh. If Rupert didn’t already know better, he wouldn’t have doubted the man was an upper-class Londoner, through and through. Though, Pollux had spent some two hundred years in London during the 17th and 18th centuries, so he at one time may have been part of the aristocracy of that period.

“No, I’m not. But I’ll kill you just the same.”

Pollux was stunned to silence by Xander’s declaration. Then he laughed, and pointed the tip of one of his blades at Xander.

“You cheeky little devil! All right... show me how you’ll accomplish that which a thousand men have failed to do!”

Rupert stopped looking through the camera and watched the battle begin with his own eyes. When Xander fought it was difficult enough to keep up with his moments, and nearly impossible through a lens.

Pollux flew at Xander, he swung his blades in arcs that Rupert only saw as flashes of light. Xander dodged each swing gracefully, and with an economy of moment that made it look as though it were effortless.

Xander still hadn’t used his sword.

“Ho, ho! Seems as though the little boy is not unskilled!” Pollux said with a jovial tone. “You’re fine at evading, but are you afraid to swing your little toy?”

“If I did that,” Xander said, “then you would die instantly.”

Pollux laughed, then paused to take a stance. One gladius he held low against his hip, and the other he raised high, its pommel level with his forehead and the blade pointing outward to the side. 

He was still for a moment after taking the stance, then in the blink of an eye darted forward. He feinted to the left, then to the right, before he twisted on his right foot and swung his blades at Xander. Xander easily blocked one, then the other. His arm didn’t strain under the simultaneous blows. 

Pollux went into a squat position and tried to stab both points of his gladii into Xander abdomen. Xander simply stepped back and avoided them. Pollux wasn’t done; he stayed low and launched himself forward in another double stabbing motion. When Xander dodged that as well, Pollux rolled forward, maintaining his momentum and cross sliced at Xander knees as he rolled to his feet. Xander, in a move that was too fast to see, blocked the scissor-like slashes by placing his blade between the short swords. Then with one upward swing of his blade, he knocked Pollux backwards. 

Pollux barely managed to stay on his feet.

“I believe… I believe you are toying with me, boy,” Pollux said.

Though Pollux’s words sounded light, the rage that burned in his eyes could not be mistaken for any sort of humour, even from where Rupert hid himself.

“I am not toying with you,” Xander said. “I’m waiting for you to get serious.”

Pollux suddenly grinned. Then faster than Rupert could see, one of Pollux’s swords flew at Xander’s head. Xander leaned back, then had to duck when the second sword sliced at him an instant later. It took Rupert a few moments to realize Pollux’s swords were attached to chains connected to some device hidden under the sleeves of his trench coat. The way Pollux whipped the blades with such speed and accuracy could only have been accomplished through countless years of practice. Yet, there was nothing written about Pollux using such skills. That could only mean…

Xander could no longer remain in place to avoid Pollux’s swords. He had to jump and spin out of reach constantly as Pollux’s attacks chased him unrelentingly. The chains attached to Pollux’s swords swung faster and faster, until they cut through the air with such speed and force, they sounded like the whirring blades of a helicopter.

“Never before has anyone forced me to use this technique,” Pollux said as Xander cartwheeled out of the way of one the chained blades. “I must say, it’s exciting to finally cut someone down into meat with it, even if it is a just a lowly human child.”

Xander suddenly leaped backwards nearly fifteen feet, which caught Pollux by surprise. But not Rupert. Buffy was capable of such a move, and he’d witnessed Xander do it many times before. Pollux didn't know what to make of such a feat, however. Not even Immortals were capable of that kind of movement. It would be difficult to make such a leap forward with a running start, never mind backwards from a standing position.

“What?” Was all Pollux managed to say before Xander disappeared.

Pollux stopped twirling his blades and cast glances in every direction around him. He caught sight of Xander just before he leaped off the hull of the yacht and launched himself at Pollux. Xander held his sword in a battōjutsu position as he flew through the air, and the instant before he drew his sword from its sheath Pollux was somehow quick enough to jerk his blades back into his hands and block Xander’s single slash at his neck. Xander re-sheathed his sword before flipping over Pollux’s head, and landing on his feet several feet behind the Immortal. 

When Pollux turned around Xander's back was to him.

“Who are you?” Pollux asked. “What are you?”

Xander didn’t turn around when he asked in return, “Why did you kill all those Watchers?”

Pollux looked confused by the question, then smiled nastily before he replied, “Ah, the humans who think to spy on me?”

Xander turned around and faced Pollux. Rupert felt a chill run down his spine at the look on Xander’s face. He’d seen that expression only once before on the young man’s face, and it was only Rupert stepping in Travers’s path that prevented Xander from taking the man’s life.

“To ask why I took their lives is foolish,” Pollux said. “It’s obvious sheep should not play among the wolves.”

Xander said nothing in response, he simply lowered into another battōjutsu stance.

“I thought I recognized that stance,” Pollux said. “Hard to believe mongrel techniques have gotten you this far.”

“Who else have you told about the Watchers?” Xander asked.

Pollux smiled and said, “Why would I share my hunt with anyone else?”

“I see. Then I’ll thank you by showing you my ultimate technique.”

“Oh?”

“Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū, Amakakeru Ryū no Hirameki.”

Just as Xander finished speaking, Pollux’s blades lashed at him even faster than before. Rupert only saw it later, when he replayed the video of their confrontation. Most of Pollux’s attack was lost in the reviewing; Rupert could only make out a few frames of his blades speeding at Xander. 

Xander’s attack couldn’t be tracked no matter how much Rupert slowed down the tape.

Pollux’s head hadn’t even hit the ground before Xander appeared behind him, his sword already sheathed. Rupert preemptively turned away before the Quickening began. Pollux was an old Immortal; the release of his life force would be spectacular, and quite blinding. Rupert let the camcorder be his eyes to witness the wondrous event.

Xander stood in place as the eruption of lightening and thunder tore through the marina. The lightening struck the boats, and shorted out the lamps that lit the docks. A fierce wind began to sweep through the marina, and cause the yachts to bob like buoys on the water. Xander never moved throughout. When the Quickening ended, Rupert turned off the camera and went over to check Pollux’s body.

Rupert stripped Pollux of his over coat, then wrapped his short swords in it before putting the bundle under his arm. He glanced over at Xander and hesitated to say anything to the young man. Xander was always quiet after he fought. Rupert had come to know a quiet Xander, was an unpredictable Xander.

Still, they needed to go before someone reported the disturbance.

“We must leave,” Rupert said.

Xander turned suddenly and Rupert, alarmed at the intensity he saw in Xander’s eyes, took a step back.

“Xander, wha—?”

Xander disappeared, then a second later Rupert heard the familiar clang of two swords clashing. When Rupert turned, he saw Xander pushing his sword against the sword of another man. The man coincidentally enough also wielded a katana, thought his was of a more traditional design. He also wore a long trench coat like the one Pollux had worn. The stranger was a few inches taller than Xander, which allowed Rupert to make out his features once he got a good look at him. 

Of course Rupert recognized Duncan MacLeod. One of the few Immortals that knew about Watchers, and allowed to live. It shouldn’t surprise that he would come hunting for Pollux. In fact, Rupert felt silly for having not anticipated MacLeod's arrival.

“Who are you?” Xander asked.

“I am not your enemy,” MacLeod gritted out as he tried to push Xander’s sword away.

“I know that,” Xander said. “You would be dead if I sensed that you were. Who are you?”

“I am Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod.”

“Xander, it’s quite alright. He’s an ally, of sorts, and I don’t believe he means us any harm.”

Rupert wasn’t sure who looked more surprised when Xander withdrew his sword and backed away: MacLeod because he’d been overpowered by a mortal teenager, or Rupert himself when Xander actually listened to him.

“Mr. MacLeod, I can guess why you came here, but as you can see: Pollux has been dealt with,” Rupert said.

MacLeod carefully concealed his sword under his coat and kept an eye on Xander as he stepped around him and approached Pollux’s body.

“He was two thousand years old. How did this happen?”

Not wanting to answer MacLeod’s question Rupert replied, “You received his Quickening, yes?”

MacLeod looked away from the body and at Rupert. Realization lit up his eyes.

“You’re a Watcher.”

Rupert saw no reason to deny it, so he nodded. “I am. Rupert Giles. I am acquainted with Joe Dawson. A good man. I’m glad he survived this mad man’s sick hunt.”

MacLeod looked back at Xander who hadn’t moved from the spot where he and MacLeod clashed swords. Though he watched MacLeod intently, Rupert couldn’t tell if Xander’s stare was antagonistic or merely curious. Xander, after all, had never encountered an Immortal he wasn’t assigned to kill.

“The kid. Who’s he?”

“I’m afraid I can’t reveal that. Rest assured, he is no threat to you.”

MacLeod didn’t care for Rupert’s evasion, but seemed to understand he was in no position to force the issue.

“Fine. Then I’ll thank you, and your young friend, for ending Pollux. He was a true monster.”

_Debatable_ , Rupert thought to himself, but said aloud, “Yes. And please tell Joe when you see him that Giles sends his best wishes.”

MacLeod nodded then gave Pollux’s corpse one last look of disbelief before he walked away. Before he was completely enveloped by the night, MacLeod turned and glanced back at Xander once more as well. 

Rupert could see in the man’s eyes that he wanted answers that would never come, not even from Joe Dawson. 

A moment later, MacLeod disappeared from sight.

Back at the car, Rupert placed the short swords, still covered by Pollux’s coat, in the trunk. Xander did the same with his sword. Rupert drove them away from the marina, careful to not speed or otherwise attract attention.

“Well done.” Rupert told Xander, not expecting a reply. 

And he didn’t get one.


End file.
